


talk dirty to me

by avengersincamphalfbloodstardis



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Blushing, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Grinding, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Made-Up Game, Neck Kissing, Rough Kissing, Sexual Humor, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 17:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18579472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengersincamphalfbloodstardis/pseuds/avengersincamphalfbloodstardis
Summary: After teasing Barry for blushing so often, the heroes decide to play a game. Len aims to win.





	talk dirty to me

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the second day of [Coldflash Weeks Spring Week 2019](https://coldflashweeks.tumblr.com/post/184278455134/our-2019-spring-week-is-april-21-thru-the-27)! I wrote it on the actual day but because of things like homework and sleep, I'm posting it a day late. [The second day of the week](https://coldflashweeks.tumblr.com/post/184363829626/welcome-to-the-second-day-of-our-2019-spring-week) is Kink themed and the kink I chose was dirty talk. Enjoy!

It had started, as so many things do, as a contest between all of the heroes. Because if there was one thing that was true about the people that donned costumes in order to defy the law, it was that they were the same people that enjoyed a little showing off and attention. It wasn’t as though they wore stylish outfits while fighting crime for nothing.

And of course, with alcohol, what else would come up, but sex.

As each story grew more and more outlandish (and wow, Len had known that Oliver had once been a playboy, but seriously, was there any limit to what he would have done in his wilder days?) Barry’s face grew progressively more red.

“Aw, Barr,’” Iris slurred just a little, pinching his cheek. “Don’t be embarrassed, we can stop talking about this if you want.”

“I don’t care,” Barry said, eliciting snickers from the others.

“You’re bright red,” Curtis remarked, peering at Barry with more intensity was necessary, or would be if he hadn’t been further on the intoxicated side than the sober side. “Are we embarrassing you?”

“No!” Barry said, growing defensive. “Jeez, I’m in my thirties you know, I’m aware of what sex is.”

“Then how come you blush every time it’s brought up?” Nate asked, snickering a little.

“It’s not just sex,” Iris said. “Barry blushes at everything.”

“Hey!” Barry said, giving his sister an evil look. “No I don’t.”

“Sure you do Barry,” Ray said. “But it’s okay, it’s kinda sweet.”

“I don’t blush as easy as you all seem to think I do,” Barry protested. “I’m a big boy, I don’t just embarrass constantly.”

Iris laughed. “C’mon Barry, there’s more than one reason to call you the  _ scarlet _ speedster, and you know it.”

“Yeah,” Sara joined in. “Remember on the Waverider when you walked in on me? You went red from head to toe and I only had my shirt off. I was still wearing a  _ bra _ .”   


“Because I wasn’t supposed to see that!” Barry exclaimed. “If you and I were—” He cut himself off, cheeks tinging with the expected pink.

Sara grinned, delighted. “Is that an invitation?”

“I’m not sure your girlfriend would like that,” Barry shot back, blush fading, a point in his favor to prove he didn’t blush constantly.

Sara looked to Ava beside her. 

Playing along, Ava shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said nonchalantly. “He does vibrate.”

Barry’s blush returned in full force.

Everyone around him cackled.

“See Barry,” Felicity chimed in. “You’re bright red already and we’ve barely talked about anything.”

“Just because you have a habit of making accidental innuendos,” Barry said, though there was no malice in the words, just gentle teasing. “The rest of us might not be so used to this... candid talk.”

“Speak for yourself,” Dinah said. “If there’s one way to bond with your teammates, it’s a little locker room talk.”

Barry looked to Oliver, eyebrows raised in question.

Oliver took a slow sip of his drink, avoiding Barry’s gaze, before shrugging. “Yeah, she’s right.”

Barry threw up his hands. “Well forgive me if Team Flash hasn’t had a ton of  _ locker room talk _ .”

“ _ You _ haven’t,” Caitlin said in an uncharacteristic moment of outspokenness, which may have been due to the fourth glass of wine in her hand.

Barry gaped at her. “Are you saying...”

Caitlin and Cisco shared a look before each taking a long drink, hurriedly looking away from one another.

Barry spluttered. “That’s so... rude! Maybe I wanted to join in on the locker room talk! I could be very good at it, you know.”

“Oh please,” Sara said. “You wouldn’t last a minute of locker room talk without losing all the blood in your body to your face.”

“Could too,” Barry pouted petulantly.

“Could not,” Sara said. “In fact, I bet we could all get you to blush within a minute of talking to you.”

“I’ll take that bet,” Barry said. “I can handle myself.”

Sara grinned, leaning forward eagerly. “Oh really? Because we could test that so easily.”

Barry narrowed his eyes. “Try me.”

“Okay,” Sara said, grin a little frantic with delight. “We each get a turn giving you a little locker room talk and see how fast we can get you to blush.”   


“You’re on,” Barry said.

Felicity clapped her eyes. “I want to play! How long do we get?”

“A minute,” Sara said. “And anyone can play who wants to, right?”

Barry nodded. “Right. And what do I get if I win?”

Sara snorted. “Don’t worry about it, you won’t.”

“What do I get?” Barry protested.

Sara thought about it for a minute. “If you win, we all admit you’re a big boy and start including you in the locker room talk. And if we win, then we get to call you Scarlet for all eternity.”

Len cleared his throat. “I don’t think so. I coined that term, it’s mine.”   


Sara huffed at him. “You can’t claim a whole nickname.”   


“Just did,” Len said. “Choose another one.”   


“Any suggestions for a prize then, if you’re going to just call dibs?” Sara asked.

Len considered. “If we win, then Barry has to create a new locker room story to tell.”   


Crows of delight rose in the crowd, the loudest of all Sara’s.   


“Deal?” she asked, extending a hand to Barry.

Barry swallowed hard, impressively refraining from blushing, and hinting that he had at least a chance at winning as he shook her hand. “Deal.”

Sara went first, since it had been her idea. Len was sure she put forth a valiant effort, if the way Barry bit the inside of his cheeks was any indication. Alas, she was unsuccessful and Barry finished the minute without so much as a pink dot in his cheeks.

She seemed okay with her loss, particularly when Ava gave her a consolatory kiss.

Oliver tried next, getting in closer than Len thought was particularly necessary. He seemed to have a decent grasp on what would get to Barry as the speedster practically squirmed out of the seat as he listened. But still, no blush.

Ray went as well, making Barry’s eyes widen in shock and humor. 

“Ray Palmer!” he exclaimed when Ray pulled back. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

It was Ray who ended up blushing instead.

It seemed like Dinah might have had a chance, especially when her beautiful lips brushed the shell of Barry’s ear, but even that wasn’t enough.

One by one, everyone took a turn, but miraculously, Barry didn’t blush.He’d clearly proven a point; he wasn’t as easily scandalized as they all seemed to think.

And then it was Len’s turn. 

Long enough had Len been waiting to make his move on Barry Allen, and he certainly wasn’t going to waste a chance like this, though he did long to speak filthy things against Barry’s skin and see it flood with red. Since coming back from the time stream, he’d made a decision. No longer was he going to pine after Barry, he would admit to himself that what he wanted was something real between them, and he would pursue it. And now, it was time to prove that to Barry as well.

He settled in beside Barry and gave him a little smirk. He didn’t dare to hope that look would be enough, though it had been in the past. But Barry hadn’t come this far to be undone by a look from Leonard Snart. 

Len hoped his words would be another story.

He leaned in slow, building the anticipation, knowing it would drive Barry crazy. Surely he’d want Len to get through this faster, get it done quickly in the hopes that he would feel it less. But he wouldn’t have as good of chance at winning this game if he played it that way. He wanted this to be more akin to a lover’s tender caress of the cheek that a band-aid ripping free of the skin. 

Letting his lips ghost over Barry’s ear, but not touch, oh so carefully not touch, to let Barry want the sensation but not receive.

“Barry Allen,” he murmured, dropping his voice so low it was nearly a  growl . He was content in knowing the music would cover his voice at this tone should anyone be straining their ears. “Now that doesn’t sound quite right, does it?”

Barry hummed a quiet noise of confusion.

Len smirked again, pleased at having drawn a reaction already. “I prefer Barry  _ Snart _ -Allen. Though, I’d accept an argument for Barry Allen-Snart.”

Barry’s breath hitched and Len swooped in again before he could get his bearings. 

“You might be thinking I’m joking Barry,” he cradled the name in his mouth delicately, letting the feeling behind it carry it to Barry’s ear. “Trying to win the game. I’ll admit this wasn’t exactly my plan in wooing you, but you know how I feel about plans. And opportunities, as a matter of fact.” 

Barry was completely still, listening intently.

“And this  _ is _ an opportunity darling,” Len said, enjoying the way Barry’s fingers flexed beside him. “And I could have taken it to tell you what I would do to you—take you apart, slowly, carefully, in a way that would drive you insane and still beg for more. Trust me, I’m more than capable of it, both in telling you and following through. But let’s just admit it here; after a little trek through the time stream and miraculously escaping death, I’m less inclined to play games when it comes to my feelings for you. I’m fully committed to acting on my desires.”

At these words, Len knew he’d already won; a sweet pink was already curling over Barry’s cheeks. But Len hadn’t laid it all on the table to win by a fraction—he was here to win thoroughly.

“So, my love,” he said, just to drive that baby pink into magenta. “Here it is, everything I want with you: I want to spend time with you. I want to take you out, show you off. I want everyone here to know who you belong to and to know that you’ve got my heart in the palm of your hand in return. I want to hold your hand, kiss you, and yes, make love to you. I want to go on dates and fight our enemies side by side. I want to woo you, be with you, and God willing, one day marry you. I want you now and forever, Barry Allen.”

Barry’s face was the most gorgeous shade of scarlet that Len had ever seen.

“My love,” he said again, feeling the heat of Barry’s cheeks on his own. “If you want any of this, I propose we start with dinner tomorrow. If you agree, simply declare me the winner of this little game.”

He pulled back, smirking smugly as he took in the sight of a furiously blushing Barry, not meeting his gaze as he stared over the heads of the group. Len had won the game they’d been playing—clearly—but now it was time to see if he’d won the gamble he’d just made.

“Len is the winner,” Barry mumbled, before burying his face in his hands as the whoops of the others quickly drowned everything else out.

“Jesus Christ Leonard, what did you say to him?” Dinah asked, peering at the skin uncovered by Barry’s hands. “I got downright filthy and he didn’t budge.”   


“Guess I just know what he likes in a little locker room talk,” Len said, lounging back, somehow preening nonchalantly.

Barry slid his hand back over his face and ran his fingers through his hair before turning to give Len a look, and  _ oh _ , wasn’t that a sight, a ruffled, blushing Barry. 

“Don’t brag,” he chided, without any harshness, and only encouraged Len further.

“I think I’ve earned the right,  _ Scarlet _ ,” Len murmured, leaning in briefly, if only to tease a little.

Dutifully, Barry blushed at the nickname.

“You’re terrible,” he said quietly, shifting closer.

“And we win,” Sara declared  smugly , though she didn’t deserve much of the glory at all, save for the idea of the game. “Which means we get a new locker room story soon.”

Barry gave her a look. “Fine, but you might regret it.”   


She grinned over top of her glass before she took a drink. Her gaze flickered to Len for just one brief second before she looked back to Barry. “Oh, I think we’ll all be very pleased.”

The rest of the party passed relatively uneventfully, at least for a group of superheroes. The locker room talk continued, and one small fire was set, but nothing else drastic happened. Eventually, the alcohol ran low, and the yawns grew abundant.

Len purposefully dawdled as the heroes set out, in duos and trios. After all, he and Barry had dinner plans to set and it was probably better done without listening ears.

As the last of the others, Iris and Felicity, slipped out, he turned to look for Barry.

But before his gaze could lock on Barry, hands were at the fabric on his chest and he was whisked off. 

The exhilaration of the world whooshing past him was spectacular and still couldn’t compare to the position he found himself in after; a door at his back, Barry’s body pressing him there, hands still tangled in his shirt.

Len caught his breath and smiled. “A little warning next time, my love.”

Barry, though surely not winded from running, was breathing a little heavier than was strictly necessary. He grinned back, radiant. “Sorry.”

And then he kissed him.

Quick as always, Len kissed him back, his own hands grabbing at Barry.

Their position was reminiscent of Christmas, a million years and a death ago,. But God, this was better, alone in the dark, finally able to touch back.

Their kiss broke indelicately and they were both breathing heavily now.

“Tell me,” Barry murmured, pressing a soft brief kiss to Len’s lips. “What you would have said if you hadn’t wanted to take the opportunity.”

Len’s mind spun back to his earlier words.

“You want to know?” he breathed, accepting the sweet kisses Barry continued to press over his lips, off center, on the corners.

“Tell me,” Barry demanded, his tone more akin to a plea, the  sweet desperate word of  _ please _ curling beneath his desire to present his command as having no other option, and surely it didn’t. “You said you could. Tell me.”

Len slid a hand up from Barry’s side to cup his jaw and still the feverish kisses Barry gave in lieu of  _ please _ . Barry practically  whimpered but his eyes were wild in delight at the commanding touch.

With one more hard kiss that was as loving it was rough and would surely leave a delicate light bruise on Barry’s perfect swollen lips, Len began to speak low.

“You are more beautiful than any other being in this world,” Len said softly. “And I would start by simply  _ looking  _ at you, drinking you in. I would drive you insane, I know it. I’ve seen you blush with little more than an appraising glance.”

Barry made a soft noise of embarrassment but didn’t ask Len to stop, just tucked his face in Len’s neck, nosing along his throat.

“When you start to squirm and need more,” Len’s voice admirably did not stutter as Barry began to kiss the sensitive skin of his throat. “I’d grab you and bring you to me.”

To emphasize this point, Len took Barry by the hips, trying to bring him closer, though there was no space left between them. Barry’s own hands scratched and tugged at Len’s waist in a similar effort, though perhaps more  fevered .

“I’d kiss you slow,” Len continued, his words a contrast to the rain of kisses Barry scattered over his throat. “So that you just couldn’t get enough. You’d want to keep chasing them and I’d keep you still. Get close to enough before pulling back.”

Barry whined and his hips began a slow grind against Len’s in a seemingly thoughtless bid for more sensation. Len let him writhe on him needily, grasping his buttocks to squeeze roughly. He cursed the layer of jeans between them, though perhaps it was better this way. He couldn’t afford to lose his speech when Barry had asked so prettily to hear it and he had been so confident he could deliver it. Though he longed to feel more of what was growing continually firmer between them.

“I’d undress you slow,” Len murmured, voice raspy now, moving back against Barry’s jerky thrusts. “Touching every inch I revealed. Just skimming, making sure every nerve went on fire from the lightest touch. When I got you almost naked, I’d let you take off my shirt. You’d want to so bad, just to feel a little more. Isn’t that right, my love?” he asked right against the shell of Barry’s ear.

Barry murmured soft assent and his blush warmed the curve of Len’s jaw.

More than  smugness , a deep sense of pleasure fueled by care for the man in his arms, curled through Len’s chest.

Unable to resist giving a soft kiss to Barry’s ear before he continued, Len curled a hand over the back of Barry’s neck and tightened his hold round Barry’s waist, a hand on his ass. 

“I wouldn’t let you get carried away though, Scarlet,” he murmured, reveling in the shudder that went through Barry’s whole body. “I’d pin your hands back just as you got frantic. Would you cry, love? Beg me to let you continue?”   


Barry’s hips stuttered and jerked against him, fingers yanking at Len’s shirt but dutifully not going beneath without permission.

Len’s grin cut into a gasp as Barry’s teeth bit sharply at his collarbone his grip tightening hard enough to pinch in retaliation.

“I’d kiss down to your hips,” he gasped for air Barry took more and more of the breath from his lungs with each kiss. “I’d leave you so many marks. How long would they last, love?”

“Not long enough,” Barry rasped, voice rough.

A flutter of a smile ghosted Len’s lips before he nipped the skin below Barry’s ear. “I’d still give them to you. And then I’d take you into my mouth.”

Here, he dragged his voice out slower, low and deep. “You’re practically losing it now—I can only imagine how you’d react at that. So sensitive.” Len trailed his fingertips up the soft dip of Barry’s spine, leaving goosebumps only to enunciate it with a biting squeeze at his ass. “I’d keep you pinned down. Move a little faster. Find out exactly how you taste.”

Barry whined in the  throes of sweet agony and want. 

“How long to prep you, my love?” Len asked, in a mix of a growl and a croon. “Just long enough to get you ready or should I take so long with you that you can’t stand another second without more?”

Barry’s hand slid up to hold the back of Len’s neck, the heels of his palms pressing at the sharpest points of Len’s jaw. He kissed up to the soft indent above the bone, between Len’s jaw and chin. He shook in Len’s arms, only held up by Len’s touch. 

“I could work on the other end of the spectrum,” Len mused. “Prep you so close to enough but not  _ quite. _ Let it still burn when I filled you.”

If the jerk of Barry’s hips was anything to go by, this was precisely what Len ought to do.

“You’d be so gorgeous while I fucked you,” Len growled. “Perfect. How quickly could I find out exactly what makes you scream?”

Judging by the beautiful mess Barry had become in his arms, Len guessed it wouldn’t be long at all.

“Len,” Barry whimpered, fingers drawing down Len’s jaw, lips finding Len’s again. 

Words failed between them for a moment as they simply took as much of each other as they could, their kisses and and touches needy and fervent. 

As much as it pained Len to control himself, their clothes stayed on, the simple friction and grabbing touches driving them both closer and closer. He wanted more and commanded just enough so that he could truly do this right. He needed to do as he promised; woo Barry and then follow through on his promised descriptions.

Pressing Len to the door as hard as he could, Barry cried a prayer of Len’s name and released, still grinding against Len to call him to his own finish. Surely no one had ever looked more beautiful as they came, of this Len was certain. At the sight, Len answered Barry’s beckoning and came to, fingers grasping Barry like he’d never let him go.

Perhaps without the declaration of fervent love Len had whispered before, there would have been a moment of embarrassment, but the blush that adorned Barry’s cheeks was pure pleasure, the flush of a lover coming down from the throes of passion rather than the heat of an upright fumble between friends.

“Len,” he said again and Len wondered how he could have talked all evening about love and lust and still Barry’s one word declared more than he could have uttered in a lifetime.

“My love,” he answered and was promptly rewarded with a blinding smile and that gorgeous scarlet blush.

If this was what he would be given—a lovely blush and a romp with the promise of time together—then he would use his every breath to sweet talk Barry Allen.

“I win again,” he said, smugly, breathlessly, lovingly.

Barry, with the gorgeous blush still lighting him up, laughed and pulled him in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If I have time, I'll hopefully post for another day! come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://avengersincamphalfbloodstardis.tumblr.com/)!


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